No Matter What
by TurnUps
Summary: When chummy banter with Pony Head about St O's goes wrong, Marco tries avoiding Star and she tries to get to the bottom of why he "exploded like that." Light StarCo. Rated T for language & themes. Probably a oneshot. (Trans!Marco)
**(A/N): Whilst half-asleep and completely exhausted one night, I thought about how great it would be if Marco was a trans guy. In fact, I stumbled out of bed and scribbled it onto an essay plan on my desk. (It looked very out of place with Kant's moral theories - lmao.) The next morning on the bus, I almost fell over because I was trying to type out the last scene (I wrote that first - it was the fun part.)**

 **Anyway, I wanted to talk about why I rated it T, as opposed to my original thought of K, or K+. I'm doing a play called Pronoun (about a trans guy - very good - read it if you have the chance) for a theatre festival in May. We almost weren't aloud to do it, because of 'the content and langauge'. (But, honestly, for us, the language is _nothing_.) So, I thought, to be on the safe side, to rate this T. (Because of this, there's also a lot more bad language than I was originally going to put in.)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star vs the Forces of Evil.**

* * *

They had been trying to get through to Pony Head for weeks.

It had been hard, really hard, Marco found. He thought he knew a fair bit about technology, but this had proved him wrong. Breaking into St Olga's Reform School for Wayward Princesses was completely different to streaming websites, and he'd actually had to learn how to break through firewalls and proxies by himself, rather than an extension, then adapt it to the interstellar technology.

Star had offered to help, many times, but he had refused. Partly because he sort of enjoyed acting like a hacker and partly because if one of her spells went wrong, they'd have no mirror. Her parents would get _pissed_ if they couldn't check up on her. They would definitely make Star go home. Or worse, to St O's. Marco would never be able to live with himself if that happened.

Eventually he manipulated his way through the last barrier by himself and Pony Head's image was flickering through.

"Star!" Marco hissed, gesturing to the door urgently, but he couldn't help a triumphant grin sneaking it's way across his face.

Star looked up from her magazine, for a moment blinked emptily at him, then she gasped as she saw the silhouette of her friend start to appear. In that hyperactive, inhuman way of hers, she speed to the door and practically slammed it shut, then darted forward until she was practically nose to nose with the mirror.

"Pony Head - what's up?" she whispered. Well, she didn't whisper, exactly. Star was one of those people who couldn't whisper to save her life. Her whisper was more like a breathless shout.

"'Sup yourself, girl! I haven't seen you since the rebellion!" the floating unicorn head replied.

Marco rested against one of the desks, watching the exchange. He got a little rush when he saw Star happy, no matter how dangerous it was.

"Heheh, yeah - we've been hacking away. Security got so tight - we must have really made an impact, huh?" Star's hands were either side of the mirror, her words blurring together into an giddy babble. The kind of babble that only other girl's could understand.

"It has been _crazy_!" Pony Head agreed, her eyes alight with excitement. "All of the girls have started to rebel now, everywhere. They can't even put us in Solitary Conform-ment because there are too many of us, and when they try the guards just get swamped in Princesses. It's a complete riot! Look - see how many locks are on my door!"

She floated out of the way and Star's gasp convinced Marco to lean forward to see for himself. Sure enough, there was at least ten industrial locks, all in different sizes with increasingly illogical key holes.

"Cripes, Pony Head - that's awful!" Star pined, she sounded close to tears. But that was Star, her mood could change in seconds.

Marco could read her mind from where he sat, and his fingers inched towards the dimensional scissors next to him. He changed his mind, however, at Pony Head's response.

"No, girl, it's the best thing that's happened since I got here! All the other Princesses think I'm bad- _ass_. I'm not even allowed to go to lessons anymore, because it starts _riots_!"

"Holy frijoles, you're just like Katniss!" Star gushed, even bobbing up and down on the toes of her boots.

"And it's all thanks to Marco," Pony Head continued, suddenly turning her star-dazzled gaze to him. His stomach clenched involuntarily at the memories and he tried to convince himself to relax. _Nothing would come of this._ "You were pretty something, Earth Turd!"

"It was nothing," he managed to choke out from around the ball forming in his throat.

"Of course it was _something_ , Marco," Star now turned too. He watched her proud smile change to a teasing one in seconds. "And you were _pretty._ "

"Yeah, that dress actually looked good on you," Pony Head added, cutting in as his belly death-dropped to the floor. _The conversation wasn't meant to go this way_.

"Star-" he started, hoping that she could see the warning look in his eyes and at least catch on to move to a different topic. Naturally, she didn't.

"Yeah, who'da thought?" she said instead, still in that playful teasing tone.

"I think it was even an improvement!" Pony Head continued, even starting to laugh at the end. Their voices seemed to be swirling around Marco's head dizzyingly, like they were harpies on a merry-go-roud. His stomach had retreated so far into him that he felt completely hollow; like their words were taking over him. He couldn't take it-

" _Stop_!"

All of a sudden, his voice was a yell and he was standing in front of the desk, his fists clenched so tightly that his fingernails cut into his palms like knives. His vision steadied, as though he had blacked out for a moment, and he saw Star and Pony Head staring at him, shocked by the outburst.

"Just." Marco struggled to control his voice, to bring it to a steady level, eventhough his cheeks were burning. " _Don't_. Okay. Joke about anything but _that._ "

Neither of them said anything. Star was still staring at him and he hated it. He hated how she looked confused and _scared._ And _hurt_.

For half a moment, he thought about explaining, but in the next half of the second, he realised he knew he couldn't. He didn't want to start going into it for fear that it went the wrong way and it was irreversable. Then things would get worse than awkward. Unthinkable. He wasn't even sure how he'd explain it to two - two aliens. (He hated using that word to describe Star, but with something like this, her origins really showed through.)

And there was no way he could do it with Pony Head listening in.

Instead, cheeks still burning like Pompeii, he forced himself to tear away from Star's gaze and walk. He just couldn't take those puppy-dog eyes. It took all of his effort to focus on taking the next step, of not letting his legs, which felt like they had turned to jelly, collapse under him.

Marco closed the door behind him, but his hand stuck on the handle for a moment as his breath came in a shaky gasp. He realised he had been holding it. Now that he had released it, it seemed uncontrollable. He tensed his whole body to stop the shaking but it didn't do any good.

As his hand slammed over his mouth to stop Star hearing, Pony Head's voice came from inside the room.

"What's _his_ problem?"

* * *

Star had done a lot of stupid things. A _lot_ of mind-bogglingly stupid, idiotic things. She knew that.

But every time she did such a moronic act, Marco would always laugh it off, or forgive her, or just hug her because they were both so _glad_ to be alive. He'd even gotten mad at her before. But he had never, _ever_ yelled at her like that.

She had spent the next hour pressing Pony Head on why he had just exploded like that. Her best friend had passed it off as 'testosterone-teenage-boy-syndrome', but she couldn't bring herself to believe that. Since coming to earth, she knew a lot more testosterone-teenage-boys, and Marco was completely different to every one of them. He cared about people and didn't care what people thought of him.

"So why is he so touchy about wearing a dress?" Pony Head had pressed.

Star didn't have an answer, so she hung up.

Then regretted it immediately. It had taken ages to get that connection, and she'd have to ask _Marco_ to do it again. And Pony Head was the only one she could talk to about him. And she was her best bestie. And she had to know what was going on at St O's.

Star sighed, brushing her fringe back with her hand. She let it fall down, then brushed it back again and held it there. Her fingers caught on her headband and she ripped it off in frustration.

Her eyes stuck on the two devil horns abandoned on the floor.

She wasn't sure what to do. If she should apologise - and what for? _It was just banter, they were just having a laugh...weren't they?_

After thinking it through for so long, all of the little details about it, she felt so frustrated and _done_ with it all. She just wanted to move on. But she _couldn't_ 'move on' until she made up with Marco.

Hastily, she left her room, hoping they could put it all behind them and hang out together again. She would just say sorry, for whatever she did, and that was that.

Unfortunately, she was so quick that she almost bowled over Mrs Diaz in the hallway. Marco's mother had been shoulders deep in a wardrobe, and the basket she had brought out almost toppled on the two of them.

"Star!" she exclaimed, balancing it out again. "Are you okay?"

"Uh, sure, Mrs Diaz. Just needed to speak to Marco." Star knew she was being rude as she tried to step around her, but it felt like an emergency.

Again, unfortunately, she found herself face to face with Marco, who had just come out of his room across the hall. He was wearing his hoodie over his karate uniform, which was weird, even for him. He looked at Star, his brown eyes, usually warm, were almost like holes boring into her.

"I'm gonna head off now, okay mum?" he said, turning to the lady in question.

"Sure, I'm just going to sort through-" Mrs Diaz's eyes flickered to Star for a moment and her mouth changed shape as she changed what she was going to say. "-These old clothes. Hopefully, we can make some money off of them."

"That'd be great!" he flashed his mum a grin that didn't reach his eyes, then stepped around her. "See you, then."

"Star." He added, half nodded to her as he stepped around her too. His voice was as cold as ice.

She had been completely baffled by Marco's dramatic mood chang and the exchange. So, by the time she opened her mouth to call out to him, he was already halfway down the stairs.

Disappointed, she turned back to go to her room, but her eyes caught on the clothes in Mrs Diaz's basket. There were some that were clearly Mrs Diaz's, some that were clearly Mr Diaz's and some that looked like a young girl's clothes. Star knew, by instinct, that they couldn't have been hers. And, of course, they couldn't have been Marco's.

 _Did he have a sister? Is that why he'd gotten upset - because he'd been reminded of her when he was at St O's?_

 _Only one way to find out...Pry._

"Mrs Diaz, who does that belong to?" she asked, pointing to a small denim skirt.

"Who does what belong to?" Mrs Diaz asked blankly. She said it like someone who had forgotten their line onstage and was trying to cover, but was aching for their director to tell them what to do. "Don't you have homework, Star?"

"...I guess," Star shrugged. In fact, she had a lot of homework, but that didn't mean she was going to go it. Especially not when their was a friend-emergency/mystery like this.

Again, by the time she'd realised that Mrs Diaz had avoided the question, she had already disappeared into her and Mr Diaz's room. Star cursed the Diaz's for distracting her so much today. _She_ was supposed to be the weird one.

Feeling peeved, she started down the stairs. Her intention had been to scrounge for some food, because she always felt better after food, but then she had an idea. _If Marco had a sister...there must have been some record of her somewhere._

Checking that Mr Diaz wouldn't catch her in the act, she ferreted around in the old cupboards in the living room of the house. In the bottom of a trunk, she found multiple, heavy books that smelled like musty hopsital. _Photo albums._

Hesitantly, as though she would disturb some album goblin, Star took one of the albums and opened it. The first pictures were of a small baby, probably only hours old. The tags from the hospital that had been stuck in and the pink blankets made her assume it was a girl. _Marco's sister._

She flicked through, watching the baby turn into a little girl through images. There were first baths, first dinner, first steps - everything new parents did for their child.

The records stopped when the girl was no more than five or six, and Star couldn't tell whether it was because the Diaz's had forgotten to add to it, or because of grimmer reasons.

She searched through the rest of the old albums, careful to remember their order for when she replaced them. There were holiday albums with the girl, holiday albums with Marco, random pictures jumbled together to be sorted that had Marco's parents when they were younger, to pictures of Marco a year or two ago. Despite all this, there was no child album for Marco. _Had it been too painful? Had the Diaz's just forgotten to do so with their second child?_

What was even more curious was that Marco and the girl were never in a photo together.

* * *

Marco had over done it at karate. Any opponent his Sensei had given him, he had erratically hit without any technique. Their hits didn't even really seem to hurt him, he was just desperate to punch something. So much so, that he forgot they were his friends.

So Sensei had put him on the bench for being too violent. He just couldn't believe how everything was taking a sour turn so suddenly. Star hadn't known - she hadn't needed to know - she hadn't _wanted_ to know - and know it was like Pony Head had pulled a string on a sweater. Every thing was unravelling and he wasn't quite sure what to do next.

He cursed his mum for being so careless with his old clothes. Then felt bad because it wasn't _her_ fault. It was his own fault for not throwing them out sooner. But, of course, he couldn't let the blame fall on himself.

So, he decided as he walked home, in an even worse mood than when he left, it was the testosterone. The testosterone was making him angsty and irritable. He probably could have brushed it off if he wasn't using it. Then he wouldn't feel so mad at little things and he wouldn't get benched for being too angry.

Marco sighed as he unlocked the front door of his house. _He needed an outlet where other people weren't involved. Maybe he should do yoga instead._

Still feeling temperamental, he slunk into the house. He could hear his parents cooking dinner in the kitchen, somehow still acting like a lovey-dovey young couple, which made him smile - some relationships really were eternal.

But his smile was also partly because Star was nowhere in sight. This made him feel guilty, which made him feel angry all over again.

Marco crept up the stairs and along the hallway to his room _. If he could ride it out to tomorrow, she'd probably forget all about it, and everything could go back to normal_. _Just don't mention it._

He let out a sigh of relief at the thought. _Everything would be fine._

 _Well, everything would be fine if he got a head start on his homework. Having an ogre for a teacher understandably made him eager to finish it on time._

Forcing Star to the back of his mind, he sat down to study.

He'd barely made it ten minutes in when his phone buzzed.

All prepared to angrily text Star to leave him alone, he snatched it from the side of the desk. His thumbs were poised over the keys, ready to thumb out a message at the speed of light.

But it wasn't a text. It was his T alarm.

Which was almost as annoying, really, because he was trying to forget about all of _that. That_ was what had started this in the first place.

Nonetheless, it wasn't the sort of thing he could just miss. He fetched the needle and liquid from his bedside drawer robotically, his brain on auto-pilot.

His stomach did another death drop as he heard the door open.

Marco's head swivelled so fast that his neck clicked. He saw Star, her blue eyes as wide as saucers, standing in the doorway. Staring at him, stood there with a needle in his butt.

" _Shit, Star_!" he shouted at her, his voice just on the verge of screaming. " _Get the hell out!_ "

She did, thankfully.

She shut the door so hastily that she almost fell over herself. Marco pulled his trousers up so fast that he gave himself a wedgie.

Every swear word he knew was streaming continuously in his head. _Did she see? What did she see? Heck, would she even_ know _? Would he be able to explain it?_ He groaned, collapsing on his bed. She couldn't have none, but, hell, it was awkward enough when his parents walked in uninvited, let alone her.

His hand reached out and closed around his i-pod. He was fuming and didn't want to think about anything anymore. He'd just have a nap.

Thing's would look better when he woke up...

* * *

The voice of his mother calling him for dinner woke Marco up from his delirious, I'm-aware-I'm-sleeping-nap. He smoothed his hair, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes just to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

Then he pulled the heaadphone that was still playing _The Smiths_ , out of his ear and headed downstairs. The nap had made him confused as to what was real and what wasn't, but he was all too aware of the grumbling in his empty stomach. _When was the last time he ate?_

Marco lost his appetite when he saw Star hesitantly sat at the dinner table. It was like putting on 3D glasses - dreams and reality suddenly came into focus and he remembered what had happened. He waited for Star to - he wasn't sure what he wanted her to do - but he waited for a moment all the same.

But Star wasn't saying anything.

So he didn't say anything. He sat down and helped himself to the mash potatoes.

He glanced at Star. She glanced away.

Mr and Mrs Diaz attempted light conversation, and, upon seeing Marco and Star acting so agitatedly, tried to cajole them into it too.

After a while of only receiving curt, one-word answers, Marco's father placed down his knife and fork.

"What is wrong between you two, hm?" he asked, peering at the angry blush forming on Star's cheeks to Marco's furrowed brow.

"Nothing's wrong, dad," Marco told him, getting the brief courage to smile. "With me. _I_ can respect someone else's personal space."

Star caught her mouth from dropping all the way open as she glared at him, but it was still slightly open.

"Well," she murmured, putting down her own cutlery dangerously. "At least _I'm_ not taking drugs"

"Drugs? Marco-" Mrs Diaz cut in, echoing his own thoughts.

He would have laughed at Star's explanation if it was really the truth.

"She doesn't know what she's talking about." Marco told his mum sternly, his eyes telling her exactly what had happened. Hers widened as she understood, but she couldn't say anything over Star, who was working herself up into hysterical.

"No, I don't, do I? Because _you_ never tell me anything!" She snapped, the edges of her eyes red. " _I_ don't keep secrets, Marco."

"This isn't the kind of thing you can just say at the dinner table!" Marco barked back. "It's not the kind of thing you can _say_!"

Warning bells were sounding in his head, telling him to get out before it all came out. He took a deep breath, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then stormed back up to his room. _So much for laying low._

He didn't stop until he was leaning against the inside of his door. His face felt like a hundred needles were bursting across his cheeks, like when someone 'walks over your grave' but it didn't stop. His bottom lip was trembling like he was going to burst into tears.

But he could hear Star's footsteps behind him, and he knew that wasn't an option. Instead, he fought to regain his breathing. _What was he doing? What was his plan here?_

Her footfalls stopped just outside his room and he held his breath.

Knowing Star, she'd sing that dumb song about the snowman.

There was a soft knock, just where his shoulder was resting against the door.

"I'm sorry about your sister, Marco. I didn't mean to pry and I know it must make you feel totally terrible. I won't mention it again. Unless, of course, you want to talk about it, then I'm here for you. I'm always here for you." She said softly. Like a scolded puppy. Like she'd been rehearsing it all day.

But what the _hell?_ He had know idea how to react to her explaination. He didn't even know how she'd _reach_ that conclusion. He frowned to himself, looking up at the cieling as though the plaster would shrug back at him.

Then he relented and creaked the door open.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, bewildered. His voice was softer than it had been all day.

"Your...sister? The one who died?" Star repeated. Her huge eyes blinked at him earnestly.

"I don't have a sister." Marco let his door swing all the way open. He was almost as baffled as she was.

"Oh God - have the drugs made you forget her?!" Star darted in through the space in the door, her eyes roving around the room like she was searching for said drugs. _Was she planning an intervention?_

"No!" Marco exclaimed, catching her wrist to make her turn back to him. He took a deep breath, and stared her straight in the eye. "I'm serious. I'm an only child. I always have been." He paused. Better to set her right then to let it continue. "And I'm not doing drugs. It's T - testosterone?"

Star's face dropped into a frown.

"Testosterone...why?" she echoed blankly. He could see her theories collapsing around her. He was desperate to make light of it, to sit her down and laugh about it later, but she was doing the opposite. Her completely missing the point made him feel so volatile.

"Holy _macaroni_ , Star, I'm trans!" he found himself yelling at her. He even shook her a little bit, as though that would help her understand.

"...What?"

" _Trans_! Fuck, look-" feeling hot and frustrated, Marco struggled with the hem of his hoodie. He tugged it and his t-shirt over his head and let them fell to the floor. He was panting, as though he was breathless.

He stood there, the door still open, staring at Star in his half-binder.

"But what's 'trainz' mean?" she asked, rather anti-climatically.

"...What?" Marco could barely believe her.

"Are you a train Marco?" Star gasped.

She was so genuine about it that Marco found himself spluttering with laughter despite the fact that his life felt like it was collapsing around him.

"What? No!" he shook his head. Then he ran his fingers through his hair as he struggled for the words to explain it. Explain himself. "Like, I - I was born a girl. But I - I guess I never really thought of myself as a _girl_. I knocked out a guy the first day in karate for calling me a girl, like it was some kinda insult. Because it sounded _wrong._ Like, I was pretending to be someone else, but I wasn't sure what I could do about it. I kinda thought that I'd have to just accept it, this feeling like I didn't _belong_ in my own _body_. Then my parents suggested possibly being trans. So I tried identifying as a guy, and...I've never felt better about myself, Star."

She was silent, her scruffy hair covering half of her face. He could see her eyes flickering over him like he was a maths problem. Like she was trying to add up everything he just said.

"I get that this might be weird, I'm sorry - you didn't - I thought you didn't need to -" He stopped trying to stammer excuses because Star wasn't moving and he was starting to feel like a jerk. He took a breath, running his hand through his hair, all too aware of how exposed he felt, especially with the window blowing a cold breeze on his back.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything. But it's not like - it's not a secret, you see? It's my identity and I'm still a guy." Marco let the whine appear in his voice, even though he hated it. He hated Star not speaking to him more than losing some pride. "Star, say something."

His voice was cracking and he felt his knees start to tremble again. He locked his knees, but everything was trembling and he was cursing himself for revealing it. Now everything would change. Become awkward. Worse than awkward. _If she didn't accept this, could they ever be friends again?_

"What is there to say?" Star said quietly after a while, she looked back up at him, her eyes still full of questioning. "So what if you're not born a guy? On Mewny stuff like that happens all the time, it's not a big deal."

She suddenly gasped, making Marco jump.

"In fact, there's a spell for it!" she grinned at Marco like she could solve all of his problems. And she probably could, but nonetheless, he grabbed her arm again to stop her from leaving. "Not sure I want another tentacle arm." He half smiled at her, because, like Star herself, her magic was unpredictable. And Marco loved her all the more for it. He loved her for taking this exactly how she did.

She looked at him, confusion still ebbing away, before she laughed. He found himself chuckling with her, partly because he was just so damn relieved that she accepted him and partly because her laughter was contagious.

But when their laughs did die out, Star raised her arm towards him, and Marco's breath hitched. She pressed her palm just over Marco's heart, and he could feel it beating like a butterfly's wings under her touch. He wasn't even sure quite what he was feeling anymore.

"You know, Marco," she said, speaking slowly, like she was making sure he wouldn't miss a word. "I'll always love you for _who_ you are. You'll always be my Mess Up Twin."

It was like her words were going straight through her palm. Waves of warmth, of acceptance, washed over Marco and he felt he could breathe -really breathe - with the relief of it all.

Her eyes rose to slowly meet his and they smiled gingerly at each other.

He didn't allow himself to hesitate - he pulled Star into a tight bear hug and buried his face in the blonde hair at her neck. Like blonde silk. Everything about her seemed gold. _Everything was okay._

She laughed, as she hugged him back, just as tightly.

"Sorry for, well, everything today," Marco murmured to her. "Thank you, Star. I love you."

"I love you too, Marco," she said, she pulled away and looked him solemnly in the eye. "No matter what."

As he looked at her, her eyes like crystals - like diamonds - like looking at the sky and realising all the possibilities of the universe, he was reminded of his parents cooking dinner. Of how he thought that some relationships, the really special ones, really were eternal.

He sincerely hoped that he and Star had that relationship. Otherwise, he felt he didn't have anyone to genuinely rely on.

*:･ﾟ✧~Fin~*:･ﾟ✧

* * *

 **(A/N): Ta-dah! I might continue it someday, because I'd really like to see/write this headcanon in action some more, but I don't have any ideas right now. I do have a couple of notes, though.**

 **1.) "You're just like Katniss!" - I hate this similie and I'm not sure why, because I think Katniss is a great character, I just don't like the way she's treated by the media. Anyway, I kept it in because they're 14, and Hunger Games was the shit when I was 14.**

 **2.) "Knowing Star, she'd sing that dumb song about the snowman." - This is not my opinion. At all. I love Frozen like the trash I am.**

 **3.) Marco's mini-monologue - I'm still not 100% happy with this, but I wasn't sure how to tweak it to make it better.**

 **That's all I have to say (for now?), thank you for reading. vuv**

 **Don't forget to like, comment and subscribe.**


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